The Lord of Fire and the Queen of Ice
by Kittie Darkhart
Summary: Fire and Ice. Love and Hatred. We never truly know the inner workings of the human heart, no matter the damage one can inflict through a lifetime of pain and desperation. (Warning: Hints of Helsa/Iceburns/fire!Hans)


Disclaimer: I own nothing from _Frozen_. The story, characters, etc. belong to Hans Christian Anderson and Disney.

Summary: Fire and Ice. Love and Hatred. We never truly know the inner workings of the human heart, no matter the damage one can inflict through a lifetime of pain and desperation. (Warning: Hints of Helsa/Iceburns/fire!Hans)

The Lord of Fire and the Queen of Ice

Prologue

"Fire and Ice"

Some say the world will end in fire,  
Some say in ice.  
From what I've tasted of desire  
I hold with those who favour fire.  
But if it had to perish twice,  
I think I know enough of hate  
To say that for destruction ice  
Is also great  
And would suffice.

— Robert Frost

 _Arendelle, Norway_

 _Late Summer, 1841_

…

If someone were to tell Queen Elsa of Arendelle that the presently deposed thirteenth prince of the Southern Isles harboured a dark secret, then she would quietly answer that she would have been far from surprised. After all, the prince—a man who had once charmed and deceived her beloved younger sister—was far from the ideal saviour and leader in which he had presented himself when she had accidently plunged her kingdom into a perpetual winter.

Elsa, isolated princess and later queen-in-mourning upon her parents' unforeseen and most regrettable death, set the missive from the viceroy of the Southern Isles aside. What did a punished prince's private miseries concern her? Indeed, what did the supressed pleas of his family matter? He still had his parents and twelve brothers to look after him. Why on earth would they have need of her assistance?

And yet…

And yet, they had asked for her to come—to assist them in a personal tragedy that had befallen them.

Enchantment. Witchcraft. Sorcery.

Three words, not so idly penned in ink, were sprawled haphazardly across the parchment from which the royal family crest covertly condoned its representative to craft with an artful hand that mimicked more an idle threat than genuine plea.

If you don't save the prince from himself, then we shall herewith be forced to out your good, honoured and most esteemed majesty and grace as a witch.

Elsa turned away from the letter, outwardly disgusted by the claim that the prince had been demonically possessed. Undoubtedly the church had been summoned, arrived, and failed in its pursuit to exorcise the demons that currently besieged the prince. No. Many had been secretly summoned to the royal court. She had been a last resort.

She.

Elsa.

Queen of Arendelle and Regent of the Far North.

Of all monarchs, she had been summoned to the royal court of the King and Queen of the Southern Iles. Her sister, the Princess Anna, would have nearly found the whole thing laughable; however, as her sister would be loath to admit it, even more so since her sibling was very much enthralled by a certain iceman, the princess-heir apparent would have to agree: That the request of another monarchy—especially one with so an infamous a tie to their kingdom—a pleasant afterthought would encouraged nought but a chilling rebuttal. No, her sister would laugh at first, and then beg her not to go.

Elsa closed her tired eyes. Despite the years of forced solitude, she knew her sister very well.

 _Do you want to build a snowman?_

 _Oh, Anna,_ Elsa wanted to say, _but it is now so much more than that._

A half dozen kingdoms were in questionable revolt, and the Queen of Arendelle's answer could, possibly, hold the fate of all within a small, delicate, ungloved hand. Yes. Her decision was far removed from building that of a simple snowman.

The queen inwardly collapsed into herself, a figurative melting fortress of ice and snow, as she longed for the frosty touch of creating that which gave her the pleasure in believing the sheer simplicities of life. She wished that Olaf could melt away the ice that currently encompassed the ice shrouding her heart. Oh, if only he could melt away the fear and trepidation that surrounded her, encircling her, suffocating her.

"For uneasy lies the head," she sadly recited to herself as thoughts of the snowman's philosophy, simple and kind-hearted in his understanding of the people and world around him, before adding, rather dismally, "that wears a crown."

A tired hand came to rest at her forehead, fingers massaging her temples from a forthcoming headache. The viceroy's letter would require an answer; she could not dismiss its presence as she could a trivial desire from Wesleton's plethora of noblemen.

No, this letter demanded a prompt response that implored more for her acquiescence than refusal. In essence, she could not deny a foreign a royal favour—even for a kingdom that owed her much. A sigh, frigid and dejected, escaped her as gave in to the whims of other kingdoms that inundated her family's kingdom upon the opening of the castle's outer gates.

Another sigh escaped from her. Her parents would deem her choice as one in which she would have to decide the best course, for not only Arendelle and the Southern Iles, but for the good of all kingdoms. Being a monarch, her choice, though limited, still carried the weight in maintaining a delicate balance that would prevent a war.

And so Elsa returned to letter, her eyes never leaving it as she took a quill and paper in hand. She would address this letter personally. Her royal advisors were unnecessary in this decision as she penned in cold, clipped words: _Ambassador Sørensen,_ _I understand your kingdom's need, and I shall do all within my power to ensure that Prince Hans will be placated. I shall arrive by ship post-haste. – Queen Elsa I_

Elsa glanced at the drying ink, her vacant expression revealing nought as a storm raged within. A few snowflakes fell around her, and she suddenly quelled the urge to tear up the letter and write that which she truly wanted to say.

 _Compose yourself_ , she silently remanded, thinking of how her father would disapprove of her present behaviour. _As queen, you have a duty, not only to family, but to others._

Another moment passed before Elsa took the letter, folded its dried answer, and stamped it with Arendelle's royal seal. The letter would be ship-bound by the evening tide, her meeting with a prince whose anger inspired only odium and fear of his family's subjects was inexorable.

With another sigh, Elsa stood and walked toward the study's window. She noted the village beyond the castle, a faint smile resting at the corners of her mouth. Arendelle was beautiful in spring. With its towering mountains and majestic fjords, the kingdom was a glittering jewel than many kingdoms yearned to possess. _Just as the terrible man tried to possess it through lies and treachery._

Cold ice seeped at the edge of her fingertips. She allowed it to remain as she methodically crafted a shape from an icy lump—one shaped in the likeness of a heart—burgeoning within her hands as she considered the intricate fractals that composed it. She frowned. A frozen heart. How fitting.

Its symbolic implication was not lost on her as she looked once more toward the village, the cold heart in her hands a dark foreshadowing of what awaited her in the lands beyond the enclosed protection of her kingdom. Grey skies loomed in the distance as a storm brimmed on the horizon. It would come inland.

 _As he had._

Elsa absently stroked the heart in her hands, unaware that all of her fears and reservations were etched inside of it as another heart—one that beat in a cruel man across the sea—possessed a fire that waited and raged, consuming all within its path.

…

 **Author's Notes: I honestly had no intention to get into the** _ **Frozen**_ **fandom; I really hadn't, but I then happened upon some** _ **Frozen**_ **merchandise that featured Hans and Elsa beside of each other during my holiday shopping. I've seen them paired together before, but hadn't really thought much of it until recently.**

 **As much of my other writings suggest, I love a strong heroine forced to countenance a villain who is as equally capable in providing her another view on life. As one who really initially liked Elsa's character, I love the idea of delving into her psyche, and how she would address the conflict she undoubtedly feels towards Hans' betrayal to her and her sister. There's that, and there's also the fact that I rather shamelessly love the idea of Hans challenging her in ways that she's never encountered. I've also noticed that Hans' character has quite a bit of depth, and I cannot wait to explore it.**

 **I must also confess that I'd originally intended to write a oneshot, but decided to write this story in three parts. I've just begun reading Elizabeth Rudnick's novel,** _ **A Frozen Heart**_ **, which elaborates on** _ **Frozen's**_ **story via Hans and Anna's perspectives. I'll incorporate some of the themes used in the novel in the upcoming chapter as we may finally see why Elsa was summoned so urgently.**

 **Robert Frost's poem "Fire and Ice" has long been a personal favourite that I chose to connect with this story's theme. Truly, I love the idea of fire!Hans so much.**

 **Apologies in advance for any grammatical errors. I've looked through everything, but I have a tendency to sometimes miss things.**

 **I hope everyone enjoys the story so far, as I look forward to contributing to the Hans/Elsa section.**

 **Happy New Year!**

 **Best wishes,**

— **Kittie**


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